June 15th, 2008



It was a beautiful day for a wedding.

He was radiant before you, his face full of a soft joy that seemed to infect everyone he came into contact with.

His hand was warm in yours as you put a hand on his waist and led him onto the dance floor, steps sure and steady.

He fit into your arms so perfectly, and as his hand found your shoulder, you could only sigh and breathe in the faint scent of lilies and sunshine. He’d always smelled like that, for as long as you can remember; on this day, it was ten times stronger. Like his happiness was finding all the ways it could to express itself.

You held him close, leading him in a slow dance around the polished, panelled floor. You felt like there were no others in the world. Because for you, there had only ever been him.

He’d always been there, beside you, all your life. Through all the hard times, through all the good times. He’d been the hand holding you up at your most desperate, been the one to push you forward at you most insecure, been the one to cheer you on when you’d achieved your best. You’d always thought, somehow, that you were meant to be. That he was the one you were meant to spend the rest of your life with. And little by little, your love had grown, changed, deepened.

As you spun him around, the press of his hip against you like a puzzle piece snapping into place, you wondered at the way things turn out. At the strange things that life throws at you. He came back into your arms, his sweet smile causing a flutter in your heart like it always had, and you wished you could hold time in this perfect moment, forever.

But the world does not work on a whim, and all the wishes in the world don’t change reality. So you held him close and tried to memorise every smell, every sound, every touch, tried to pretend the world outside did not exist. And for that song, for that song alone, he was yours.

When the last strains of it drifted away, the moment slowed again, and you felt him begin to slip away. His warmth left yours, and he stepped back, smiling so sweetly. You hoped that the smile would stay with him (with you) eternally.

“Thank you for coming Yunho. And thank you for the dance.” He said. And you smiled.

He lent in, tilting his head to find your cheek. There was a flutter of wind, a grazing of sunshine and lilies and the impression of soft, soft skin, and then he was drawing away.

His hand slipped from yours, leaving only the echo of warmth in your palm. His smile turned away, finding another home in the woman across the room. Before you knew it, he was there, beside her, and gone from your side.

Your hand closed as your heart clenched, and you wondered when the two of you had parted ways, and if you could turn back time.

Turn back time, to take the road that would lead you back to him.